The Weight of the Sky
by yarnybear
Summary: Annabeth when Luke left her on Mt. Tam. Annabeth feels sorry for Luke, and takes his burden. One shot. Read and review. But please remember, folks, Luke has feelings too.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Annabeth or Percy or anyone else. Rick Riordan does, and I envy him. But the plot to this fanfic is all mine. :K**

**Summary: Annabeth when Luke betrays her into taking the sky from him. This is what Annabeth and Luke think. **

I feel there are too many Luke and Thalia/Annabeth and Percy stories. So I've decided to make a story that isn't about a normal kid who discovers that he/she is a demigod and meets Percy in Camp Half Blood. Yeah, those stories are _so_ common.

Hahahahahaa. Enjoy, cry at your own discretion.

ONESHOT: ONE SHOT

"Luke! You needed my help!" Annabeth runs to Luke. Luke is trapped by the heavy clouds and the sky and all the sins of mankind.

Luke grits his teeth. "Annabeth, I called. You came….Forgive me, for all I've done. This pain…it's unbearable, yet I can't set it down, gain reprieve. Help me…Annabeth.

Annabeth cries: "Luke, I've missed you. But what you did…it's inexcusable. You are my friend still. But Thalia….Thalia isn't Thalia any more. She misses you."

Tears slide down Annabeth's face. She sees what has happened to Luke. That carefree, happy Luke from years ago has worn away.

The tired, care worn, weather beaten Luke is left. All the good parts of Luke have been compressed. And Luke's bad side and revenge and anger and fury have grown. He hates his family, his friends. He lusts for blood.

Annabeth is sorry, and guilty too. She has chosen Perseus over Luke, and Luke won't forgive her. Annabeth is angry at herself, and her mother too.

Luke's knees are pressed on the ground, his hands stretched above him, keeping the sky from the world. If the situation weren't like this, Luke would look triumphant, exultant, and happy, with his arms raised in joy.

But it isn't like that. Luke's face is covered in dirt and filth. Where tears have dripped and fallen, the flesh is moderately cleaner.

Annabeth's heart yearns for him. She sees what kind of condition he is in.

Luke's knees and shins, pressed forcefully to the ground, are grimy. He has cut himself on the sharp rocks. His arms are trembling; effort is taking its toll out of him. Beads of sweat stand out on his forehead. They look like clear pearls. They slide down; rolling down his nose, his neck, and his temples.

Luke looks like he regrets what he did: The betrayals, the attempted murder, the lying and cheating and scheming.

Annabeth is so sorry, she wants to apologize. She wants to help him. So she walks forward to him, hesitating with every single step.

"Who did this to you Luke? Luke, please…I missed you."

Luke raises his head, only slightly. His eyes are lowered, like he begs forgiveness. "Kronos turned on me. I told him I didn't want to torch Camp Half Blood."

Luke's teeth are clenched, his arms straining. Dusty blond hair falls over his face, giving him an endearing look.

Annabeth's heart melts. He looks so innocent. Yet he has done so much evil. Annabeth thinks she is smart. She does not know that hubris will be her downfall, or possibly her best asset.

"Luke!" She calls, desperate. Guilt is taking over. Maybe once she has helped, she thinks, she will stop having the dreams, no, nightmares.

Luke is wary and cautious, or he feigns this. "Annabeth…," he whispers. His knees shift a bit in the gravel. A cloud of dust rises up. It falls gently, adding another coat of dirt to his bare feet.

"Luke, let me help you. Forgive me, I should have trusted you!" Annabeth is crying now. Annabeth has not cried since Thalia was changed into a pine by Zeus. Annabeth has tried to cut off all emotion, thinking that it affects her logic negatively. She thinks that emotion clouds the mind.

But all of Annabeth's self imposed barriers are falling, crumpling. They are melting, and the seams of all she has believed about Luke are bursting. All her sympathy pours out.

"Luke," she calls rashly. She does not think clearly any more, since all her logic is hidden by her overwhelming logic. "I will take the burden from you. When you are free, you must go to Camp Half Blood. Thalia and Percy and Grover will help you."

So she joins Luke. Luke smiles sadly at her. She sees how tired he is, and up close she sees how fragile he truly is. He looks about to give up, about to die. But the sky will not let its prisoner go.

Luke has lost weight. He looks wasted and painfully thin. His clothes are ragged, and he is cold and shivering under the weight of the clouds.

Annabeth imitates Luke. She gets to her knees. She raises her arms, to take the brunt of the load and grant Luke a rest. Luke looks like he needs a break, a temporary stop to his torture. But she hesitates.

Annabeth remembers Perseus, about all they have done together: Chariots, fighting, dancing, smiling, being there for each other.

But has Luke done the same for her?

Annabeth ignores wisdom and reason, gifts from her mother that she has always taken for granted. Annabeth needs to help. She does not want sleepless nights tossing and turning because she saw that Luke needed help but refused him comfort and safety. She cannot live like that. Thalia will accuse her of a cold heart and shriveled soul.

So Annabeth lifts her arms. The weight of the sky falls on her. She tries to stand. Her feet slip on the gravel, slick with sweat and tears of all the prisoners.

Luke ducks under Annabeth's arms. He falls to the ground. He is laughing with joy, his arms raised with happiness, real happiness.

Annabeth finally gets to her feet. The sharp gravel pinches her feet. Her knees are bruised. Her ankles are cut from the pressing into the rocky ground.

Luke pushes himself up and walks over to Annabeth.

Annabeth is in pain. "Bear with me this load, Luke. I have done the same for you."

Luke smiles at Annabeth; hope rises and swells in her.

Luke pats Annabeth on the cheek. "Poor, dear Annabeth. You are too trusting sometimes."

A single tear slides down Annabeth's face. It drips down her cheek, a single lustrous dew drop. It is a thing of beauty in a land of misery and gloominess.

"How could you, Luke? I thought you were better than this…" Annabeth looks betrayed, but the fire is dimming in her.

She realizes what the situation is like. She is trapped, by herself, holding the weight of the sky. Luke, her best friend, has lied to her, yet again. And there is no one who will help her.

Luke walks off, whistling. He disappears down the mountain path. He is quickly gone, covered up by an outcrop of crop.

Annabeth is heart broken. She coughs; the rock dust has started to get into her lungs.

Annabeth slumps down, in pain – physical and mental. She wishes Perseus is with her, because Perseus always cheers her up.

So the days pass on, and Annabeth is tortured. She wishes for reprieve. All her hope is gone by now, and she thinks about Luke. She muses for hours, and decides she'll join the side of whoever lets her go.

**Author's Note: It's depressing, isn't it? **

**It's the Titan's Curse, Percy's dream, I think. **

**I just felt like writing a sad story, which is easier for me than humor.**

**This was written on the spur of the moment. **

**Please review, let me know what you think about this.**

**There will be no other chapter. This story is STAND ALONE.**


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